


We're all happier there

by UlsPi



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Autistic Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, F/F, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Getting Together, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, M/M, Trans Jaskier | Dandelion, Transphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:14:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27557446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UlsPi/pseuds/UlsPi
Summary: Jaskier and Geralt meet in the university. It all gets complicated, but they make it work.***They eat.They kiss.They go for a swim in a nearby pond. Jaskier washes Geralt's hair and kisses his shoulders.Geralt doesn't know where to put his hands. Or mouth."I didn't… didn't do anything yet," Jaskier says, snuggling up to Geralt in the cool water. There's a promise of summer in that coolness. "I want children with someone I love. I love you," Jaskier says easily.They have kissed a lot, they have spent many a night snuggled up together, they have spent hours just looking at each other.Geralt takes Jaskier back to their tent. They are both awkward and silly. Jaskier curses a lot, and cries a bit, because he hates his breasts and he wants a cock, but he wants kids, and he has consulted his doctors, he has, so he's holding out for it so far. He's scared.Geralt doesn't know a thing about misgendering, about transphobia, he's stupidly in love.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Triss Merigold/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 12
Kudos: 138





	We're all happier there

Geralt likes to remember things now. It's good and pleasant to ponder over his, no, their young years when they have been happily married for years, when their daughter is off to college and kicking ass on her full football scholarship. Jaskier is peculiarly proud and even more peculiarly angry about it. 

There are too many  _ its _ , even for Geralt's mostly wordless memories - instead they are mostly smells, tastes, the light, a movement. His memories are easily triggered too, be it a whiff of Jaskier's shampoo, that he's never changed, the smell of freshly made coffee - the way Jaskier makes it, something unexplainable, untraceable. Jaskier grins and says that it's because  _ it's made with love.  _

Geralt huffs at it, and it's good, to huff at one's husband of a million years, the one he knows inside and out and isn't afraid to be equally known by, too. 

He leans over and kisses Jaskier's temple. Jaskier groans and scrunches his nose, but pushes his hips back, right into Geralt's crotch. It's arousing now because they rhyme, know each other. Because there's  _ togetherness _ to their moves, they fit. 

"Morning, darling," Jaskier says, stretching like a cat. Geralt looks at him, suddenly struck by the fact that he knows the origin of each wrinkle and scar.

"Morning, lark. Love you."

"Oh, look, who's sentimental today."

"And every day for the last thirty years."

"Fair enough. Let's consummate our marriage again, just to make sure."

***

Kaer Morhen is a good university. It's not up there with the best universities but it's good. It's been supplying the world with fine veterinarians, ecologists, agriculturists and so forth, and that's all that matters, after all. 

Geralt and his brothers are the foster sons of the dean, so they have to work harder, which doesn't look like a great perspective right now, when Geralt is sitting between his best friends - Renfri and Yennefer - who hiss at him for being a bore. 

The door of the auditorium opens loudly and in saunters a young man in tight jeans and flowery shirt. He's bright, he's shining, he's not embarrassed of having all the eyes on him - on the contrary, he looks as if he deserves nothing less. 

The lecturer takes a glance at the moveable feast of the man and calls him by a decidedly female name. The shine emanating from the intruder dims, then burns with anger. 

"I believe I made it clear that I'm a man and my name is Jaskier." The man stands, arms akimbo, and glares. He's small, fragile, graceful - and yet he's chewing the air around him with ease. "And I also believe that my grandmother had a very intense conversation with all of you about the… Repercussions of misnaming or misgendering me."

The auditorium is silent, the lecturer is red. Then some arsehole behind Geralt says:

"So, you think you can be a boy, but you need your granny to stand up for you? Fucking ridiculous."

The lecturer goes even redder, Geralt grunts, Renfri glares at the man and Yennefer just stands up and dares the man to look her in the way, which he can't, so he returns to glaring at Jaskier. 

"Yet, here I am," Jaskier says musically. "Standing up for myself. I wouldn't want my grandmother to be in the same room as the likes of you, darling." Jaskier beams with a feral smile. "She's a respectable old woman, my grandmother, the justice Pankratz." Jaskier starts going up the stairs, and the man who insulted him is becoming smaller with each step Jaskier takes. 

"I think it's enough…" The lecturer is begging. "We will not tolerate any hate speech here. Jaskier, I'm sorry for my mistake. I assure you that I had no idea my papers are faulty."

"Do go on," Jaskier allows and sits next to Renfri.

That's how it began. 

***

Jaskier is loud, open, generous in his affections, eager to explain anything he can and smart enough to explain everything. He's instantly friends with Renfri, while Geralt and Yennefer technically go out together. 

Usually it goes like this. They go out together, they wake everyone up when they have sex, then they argue even louder. There's not a single person around them who doesn't feel sleep deprived and therefore entitled enough to suggest that they will be better off as friends. Both Geralt and Yennefer are too stubborn to listen.

Besides, Geralt is mostly nonverbal and thinks that Yennefer, angry sex, tumultuous relationship and easy connection he feels with Yennefer are everything he can get and more than he deserves. They are both attractive, deliriously so. Geralt has long white hair and almost yellow eyes, he's broad-shouldered, he's a Greek god. Yennefer is petite, fierce, black-haired and wears violet contacts, or so everyone thinks. 

Jaskier falls in with their group easily. He's aspiring to be a singer and an ornithologist. He's disowned by his very conservative parents, who were, in turn, disowned by the justice Pankratz. Geralt often thinks about it. He's a strong man, he can break a tree in half, or so they say, and he would never even dream of crossing the tiny woman of Polish origins who's a fucking bulldozer in terms of influence and assertiveness, but much quieter. She's unassuming. The deadliest person Geralt will have ever met. 

So Jaskier sings and Renfri goes to the gym with Geralt, and Yennefer drinks with Jaskier while they are waiting for Geralt and Renfri. 

This is how Yennefer meets Triss, and for a while no one sees either of them, but when they do, it's undeniable that the days of angry sex have mercifully passed. Geralt is alright with it, because it's getting more and more difficult for him not to whisper  _ Jaskier _ out of the blue. 

Then one day, during a seminar on horse husbandry, another clueless teacher demands an answer from  _ Mr Rivia _ ,  _ our dean's favourite boy.  _

Geralt's a middle child. Eskel is working on his doctorate and Lambert is doing his best to finish high school without causing  _ too  _ much trouble. 

Geralt… can't talk. It's alright for his friends, and it's alright for his family. Most teachers know that. He's a brilliant student, he is. He just can't… can't talk like that, in front of all the people. 

"Oh, come on, don't be a coward," the teacher says. "You'll have to present your thesis one day. I bet your  _ daddy  _ will write it for you, just like the rest of your surprisingly good assignments." The teacher smirks. 

"So, in order to be smart one has to chatter?" Comes a clear voice. Jaskier's voice. The voice Geralt will never admit to be thinking about when he can't sleep. "That doesn't explain why you hate my assignments so much." Jaskier huffs. And he's loved, he's so loved, so popular, it's foolish of anyone to try to outshine him. "Or is it because you're an ableist pig? Or because I refused your advances?" 

Geralt grunts at that. It's all in a bit of a haze afterwards, but the teacher is never seen again. Anywhere. 

They go to a club in the evening, which is, Renfri and Yennefer drag Geralt into a club and Jaskier is leading the way, chattering with Triss. 

"He's my redeeming quality," Yennefer says fondly. 

Geralt summons up his courage, downs a shot of vodka - and asks Jaskier for a dance. 

Geralt is colourblind, and honestly, he wears black because it's the most distinctive colour available to him, but Jaskier is, to Geralt, colourful all the same. It's just that Jaskier's colours are sweet enough to be audible to Geralt, to smell differently. 

"You're very sweet," Jaskier says into Geralt's ear. "I like you," he adds. His eyes smell blue and sound oh so blue. "I want to kiss you," Jaskier asks. "Really, you got me… crazy, baby, when you asked me for a dance, and…"

Geralt kisses him. 

***

Geralt's idea of a romantic weekend away with his… Jaskier doesn't like to be called boyfriend, and Geralt doesn't talk much, but they agree that they are lovers. Everyone refers to them as lovers. 

And now they are out in the woods, Geralt is preparing dinner, their tent is more of a palace, because he trusted Yennefer to pick one for them. 

But the blankets and bedrolls are great - Renfri bought them.

Geralt is cooking, Jaskier is singing and playing his guitar, occasionally blessing Geralt with a bright smile. They haven't had sex yet, which is a record for Jaskier who seems to be generous with his affections, but it's different this time. 

This time Jaskier is too self-aware and a bit scared. 

They eat. 

They kiss. 

They go for a swim in a nearby pond. Jaskier washes Geralt's hair and kisses his shoulders. 

Geralt doesn't know where to put his hands. Or mouth. 

"I didn't… didn't do anything yet," Jaskier says, snuggling up to Geralt in the cool water. There's a promise of summer in that coolness. "I want children with someone I love. I love you," Jaskier says easily. 

They have kissed a lot, they have spent many a night snuggled up together, they have spent hours just looking at each other. 

Geralt takes Jaskier back to their tent. They are both awkward and silly. Jaskier curses a lot, and cries a bit, because he hates his breasts and he wants a cock, but he wants kids, and he has consulted his doctors, he has, so he's holding out for it so far. He's scared. 

Geralt doesn't know a thing about misgendering, about transphobia, he's stupidly in love. 

They can't exactly separate after that weekend, so Geralt has to meet the justice Pankratz. She waves at them royally and they move in together, into Geralt's old room. 

They study, of course, they study even harder, because now there's a purpose to it - they want secure jobs after the graduation, a house of their own and their kid. 

Jaskier's dysphoria gets much worse during periods, his breasts swollen so much that the chest binder doesn't help, and Geralt can't bring himself to tie it harder, because there are angry red marks on that soft and warm skin afterwards… They argue a lot because of it, yet it's alright, it's home, it's domestic. Geralt aches for his lover, for his love. Jaskier says he wants a body like Gerald's, so they hit the gym together.

And no, Geralt can't go to a sex shop with Jaskier, but Renfri and Yennefer go with him, and then Geralt is fucked into the bed so hard he can't even grunt the next morning. His little songbird is so passionate, so tender, so sweet… If Geralt could wax poetic, he would, yet somehow Jaskier hears his thoughts all the same. 

They become so enclosed in their own life, the one they're stubbornly building for themselves, that they gradually lose touch with their friends. 

Yennefer makes sure to take Jaskier out every now and then all the same. 

And sometimes Jaskier sings in a pub, always to a roaring applause, until he tells the audience he's a trans. And he always insists on saying it. 

Before long Jaskier abandons his dreams of being a popstar. And of being an ornithologist. He skips his classes, stays home and writes. 

Geralt graduates with honours. He wants to propose and settle down. 

Jaskier somehow graduates with honours too. 

It's about the only thing they never talk about. 

Geralt gets his first job in a research centre far away from their home. Jaskier follows of course. 

Jaskier keeps writing and he turns their tiny apartment into a home - candles, curtains, smells of food that Jaskier doesn't know how to cook, even if he follows each recipe to a letter. Geralt doesn't really care, he eats it all just the same, too tired to care by the end of the day. 

Jaskier keeps writing. 

They keep trying to get Jaskier pregnant. 

***

They've moved a lot in the last three years, and they are still childless. Jaskier's dysphoria is through the roof. On the bright side, he's a Hugo award winning author now. 

"Fuck it all, Geralt, I can't do it anymore," Jaskier says one night.

Their apartments have been growing bigger, as has been their collection of useless souvenirs and knick-knacks. 

They make an appointment. And a few more, just in case. 

Just when Jaskier is told he's infertile, Yennefer calls them, sobbing, to tell them the same. 

For a while Geralt comes home to sober Triss and drunk Jaskier and Yennefer.

***

"Three parents are known to happen," the justice Pankratz says on the zoom. "Five… Are we talking about five?" 

"We are!" Renfri… threatens. 

"Alright. No need to be tetchy, young lady," the old woman says. "How many of you are married?"

"Fuck," Geralt says. He imagined it differently.

"Ok, figure it out, then call me back," and the justice Pankratz ends the call. 

***

Triss and Yennefer, Jaskier and Geralt get married one very rainy day in November. 

Renfri doesn't care about it all, and the aromantic flag on her shirt says so. 

"Maybe you all should just adopt," she shrugs.

Her friends start considering it, but then Renfri has that unfortunate one-night-stand that leaves her pregnant. 

"Ok," she says, once she emerges from the bathroom. "You're all my servants now."

Geralt rubs her feet. 

Yennefer takes her shopping. Yennefer is filthy rich because she works for a pharmaceutical company and has developed a wicked vaccine for cows. 

Triss gets Renfri the best obgyn and a doula that's possible. 

Jaskier builds up a nursery.

They make joint effort to buy a house big enough for all of them. 

***

Jaskier is the first person to hold Ciri when she's born. He looks terrific, if Geralt says so himself. He's transitioning, getting used to having a body he wants to have. 

And he's holding Ciri. 

That is, until Renfri demands her daughter back. 

They'll figure it out, they will. They have a big enough house that they will be paying for for the rest of their days, and they have enough space for everyone there. There's a writer, a vet, a pharmacologist, nay, two of those, and a fearless stunts woman. (Renfri is the best of them all, and Jaskier is envious of the stuff she does.)

And there's Ciri and her five parents, all by her side, to the horror of every teacher and bigot in her path.

Not to mention a small Polish woman who can glare better than Geralt and Yennefer combined. 

But for now, Ciri is screaming, and Yennefer is feeding her with a bottle. 

Lambert has got her a motorcycle. Eskel got her a horse. Vesemir has made her a crib.

It will all be alright. 

***

Geralt kisses Jaskier. "I love you, lark. I love you so much."

Their amorous morning is interrupted by an important call from Jaskier's agent, but Jaskier ignores it. 

***

"You've won the Nobel prize!" Ciri yells into her phone. 

**Author's Note:**

> Concrit is welcome since I'm writing it as an nb, far away from hormonal therapy.  
> And toss a comment to your writer. Please.


End file.
